


Salty apples

by OpalLight



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Erectile Dysfunction, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Masturbation, Meaningful conversations, Mentions of past abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 07:57:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12054651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OpalLight/pseuds/OpalLight
Summary: Keith walks in on Shiro masturbating, and ends up talking through things weighting Shiro's heart.





	Salty apples

In retrospect, maybe he should have stayed a bit longer in the kitchen and not snatched a pair of ‘Ladips’ as Coran called them, and dashed right out. Looked exactly like apples save for the purple skin, but tasted like pickles, and Shiro loved pickles. Keith would use any excuse necessary to spend some time with him

With one ladip in each hand and a slight tension in his muscles, he made his way to Shiro’s room.

Keith wasn’t one to get nervous easily. He was resilient to the point of tenacity and had little mind for what others might think of him, a trait that more often than not got him in trouble none other than Shiro had to yank him out of, sometimes literally by the collar.

Shiro was a special case, the one and only exception to the general rule of not giving a fuck about people’s opinions. The man was, both now and then, the only person Keith ever considered truly close. He started out as a dear friend, but at some point their relationship shifted from platonic to romantic. He didn’t exactly know when he started seeing Shiro in a different light, maybe it was after Shiro had told him about the real reason behind why he never could be spotted kissing a girl behind the maintenance hangars, or maybe it was the time he admitted he became a cadet in the first place was because he didn’t really know what to do with his life and wanted to make his father proud… It didn’t matter. The point was, it all happened with the same elegance with which a cube of butter slid across a hot skillet. 

Then he was elected into the Kerberos mission as a pilot, and the evenings both spent behind the maintenance hangars were drenched with a sense of desperation. Keith couldn’t really blame him for accepting the once in a lifetime offer- Shiro might have entered the academy without knowing any better about his goals in life, but the role of a pilot grew on him. He had a natural gift for flying, and the discipline and wit to back it up, all of which made him nothing short of a legend. To hold it against him would be about as cruel as clipping a bird’s wings, he told himself.

For five months after launch, Keith lived planning for the day of Shiro’s return. Once Shiro would be back he’d let him rest and adjust for two days, then take him to the new place he had discovered on the roof where you could see the endless desert and sky between two cliffs, and listen to him tell how the mission really went while sharing a blanket Keith would smuggle from his room and Shiro’s old blue thermos filled with piping hot tea.

It never did go as planned. When he finally came back to earth, it was in an alien pod some year later, one human arm short replaced with a robotic one, a shock of white hair, a myriad of scars and bruises that looked like a piece of abstract art on his body, and a head full of jumbled memories.

Shiro remembered Keith was close and precious to him, and at some point probably realized just what they used to be, but the details eluded him. ‘It’s like trying to hold water in a bucket full of holes. Some things stay but it’s just droplets’ he had once told Keith, looking apologetic as if this whole thing was his fault.

Ever since, Keith had been trying to grasp at whatever rope end was thrown at him to try and get Shiro- his Shiro back. Salty alien apples were as good of an excuse as any to come see his friend. If he would get a shoulder squeeze or a long hug out of it, it would be even better.

Once he stopped in front of the door, the light at the top corner changed from red to blue and the metallic panel slid open. Inside, Shiro was half sitting half lying on his bed, pants and underwear down at his ankles, his left hand on his mostly hard cock.

“Keith!” he called out, pulling at the blanket underneath him and scurrying to the furthest corner, trying to hide his waning shame.

“You didn’t lock the door,” Keith said, clearing his throat a moment later and stepping away from it, allowing the panel to slide back to place before pushing the nearby red button. Two beeps and a click later, it was locked.

Shiro slowly stretched his legs as his face turned from ghost white to a healthy pink. “I didn’t expect visitors.”

Keith had to choke a snort at that. “Could have fooled me…” his words turned bitter toward the end, and eyes gave Shiro’s blanketed figure a once over.

“You don’t have to hide you know. It’s not like I haven’t… Seen you like this before,” he said, the corners of his mouth drooping just a little bit and hands tensing around the ladips at his sides.

“Keith I-..” Shiro’s attempt at an explanation was quick to be silenced.

“I brought you some alien apples. They taste like pickles. I thought we could share them,” Keith’s voice was loud and pressing, leaving little room for argument.

“Thank you,” Shiro said, his shoulders slumping with resignation.

Keith placed one of the purple ladips next to Shiro and sat back on the bed using the wall for support.

Shiro was sitting hunched over his bottom half with a look of misery on his face.

“Do you want me to leave?” Keith pursed his lips. He didn’t intend for the words to come out as sad sounding as they did.

“No I… It’s okay. Like you said, you’ve seen me like this before,” Shiro rolled his shoulders and pushed his palms hard into the mattress, stretching the blanket across his pelvis like a pair of too-tight pajamas.

“I’m not judging you for it you know,” It was Keith’s turn to look at his own lap. “I do it too sometimes. Jack off just to work that stress out. Helps me sleep,” his fingers tightened across the shiny purple fruit. The ladip skin felt almost like he was touching polished leather.

“It’s not that,” Shiro took his own fruit and passed it from one hand to another, following the way the white light reflected in three tiny circles on its surface.

Keith was about to mention how Shiro didn’t need to tell him why exactly he was masturbating, but curiosity and hope that this might be key to understanding what was going through his head got the best of him. Instead, he remained silent and waited for him to continue.

Shiro opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened again, waving his hands around vaguely for a few moments.

“I can’t get it up,” he concluded eventually in a strained and gruff voice.

Keith looked down between Shiro’s legs and cocked his eyebrow.

“Alright that’s not exactly it. I can, but it won’t stay up properly,” said Shiro, following Keith’s eyes and pulling the blanket away with one jerky movement.

“Your erection,” Keith placed the ladip on the bed and shifted a bit so he was half facing Shiro.

“Yes. I don’t know why and I don’t really like to think of the reasons but it takes a lot of effort to get hard. And when I do I often lose it a few minutes later. Sometimes I can finish before my cock gets soft but a lot of the time it just… Doesn’t happen,” Shiro’s shoulders slumped with defeat as he watched his flaccid dick resting on his thigh.

“I could try helping with that,” Keith suggested, looking up to meet Shiro’s eyes. His voice was void of any and all playfulness or teasing.

“I would rather you didn’t,” Shiro’s smile was tense. “I barely touch myself as it is. It’s like a reminder of another thing the Galra took away from me, Keith. I’ve been thinking about what might happen when all of this is over and we return to earth. I’m not normal anymore.”

“Neither am I,” said Keith and placed one gloved hand on Shiro’s thigh. “Pidge, Hunk and Lance might come out of this a little bit older, but you know I can’t really pretend nothing’s changed after what happened at the trial with the Blades of Marmora.”

Shiro bit the inside of his cheek. “You’re right. I didn’t take this into account.”

“That wasn’t my point Shiro,” Keith insisted, squeezing the warm skin under his fingers a bit. “What I’m saying is, I’m not normal and here you are sticking up for me when everyone else treats me like I’m a ticking bomb. Whatever they did to you, it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Shiro took a big gulp of air, paused and slowly let it out through his nose. “When we captured Sendak and tried to extract his memories… He told me I was a broken soldier. I said it was a lie, that as long as my spirit was whole and as long as I could lead Voltron, I was as good as any. I try to tell myself that but it’s getting harder and harder to believe my own words.”

Keith’s lips quivered. He didn’t know what to say or do- he never really was one for such heartfelt conversations. Emotions were best paired with actions, not words in his mind. Shiro wasn’t one to break apart like that, either.

“I keep it together for the team, try to stay away from even thinking about it. I can’t always do it… Like now. I tried to masturbate because I was hoping that maybe this time I’ll just stay hard throughout the whole thing, that maybe I will magically solve the problemthis time. It wasn’t really going well,” Shiro chuckled, the smile accompanying his words not quite reaching his eyes.

“I imagine you aren’t thrilled about discovering you were part Glara either,” he added in a softer voice, and placed his hand on top of Keith’s, prying it from his thigh and clasping it in his own instead. “But at least you don’t feel like they stole anything from you. It just feels unfair, like some divine punishment I don’t deserve,” he squeezed Keith’s palm hand until his fingertips grew pale. “And I think about what I could have done different to avoid it. How maybe going on this whole Kerberos mission was a mistake..”

“Don’t say that,” Keith muttered, pulling their hands into his lap and placed his free hand on top of Shiro’s. “You’re stronger than that, Shiro.”

“I know… You’re right Keith. It’s just that I hate the situation I’m in, and I hate that I can’t do anything about it,” Shiro muttered and crossed his legs on the bed, the blanket crumpling and pulling around his ankles and knees.

“At least I have you,” he said with a hint of amusement, and wiggled his thumb under Keith’s palm.

“You will always have me,” Keith’s smile was hesitant, but sincere, pulling just a bit at the corners of his lips.

“It’s not an easy thing to remember sometimes. That you’re not alone,” Shiro leaned over and pressed his forehead to Keith’s shoulder.

“I’m here for you Shiro. No matter what,” Keith’s smile widened, and his eyes narrowed a bit as relief settled over him.

“Thank you, Keith. I’ve owed you this conversation a long time ago, but I didn’t know how to do it… Didn’t expect it all to come out when I wasn’t wearing any pants,” Shiro laughed, nudging Keith’s thigh with his knee.

“You don’t always get to plan things out you know,” it was Keith’s turn to chuckle. His thumb was rubbing little circles into the pit of Shiro’s palm, where the bumps from the underside of the knuckles gave into a shallow dip. The hand felt warm and familiar under his fingers, like a well loved book he finally got to pick up and read the first few lines of after a long time.

“You know I’m not very good at improvising. That’s your forte,” Shiro pushed his body closer and moved to lean his cheek on Keith’s shoulder. If there was anything uncomfortable about his awkward, half bent position sitting close, he didn’t say a word.

“You’re horrible at it,” Keith turned to press a little kiss to the crown of Shiro’s head.

Shiro shrugged and smiled. “You said you were here for me. I could use your help sometimes.”

“I am, Shiro. As many times as it takes.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! :) I don't often write [and less often publish], but I might actually write a sequel.


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